


The Best Kind of Burn

by beesandcake



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends, F/M, Friendly competition, Pineapple as a metaphor, Pining, Why am I ridiculous?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:00:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24245419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beesandcake/pseuds/beesandcake
Summary: An interesting competition leads to interesting things.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 12
Kudos: 89





	The Best Kind of Burn

"This is stupid."

He smirks, cocky as always. "Does that mean you give up?"

Brienne rolls her eyes. Calling it stupid wasn't her way of bowing out—she'd said it's stupid because it's, well, stupid. "Absolutely not," she replies, resolutely plucking another piece of juicy, yellow fruit from the dish on the counter top between them. 

The pineapple is delicious...or at least it had been twenty-five minutes and countless slices ago when they'd started this ridiculous contest. She shoves the wedge into her mouth. Holy fuck that burns!

Jaime's gaze is intense, watching, waiting for any sign of weakness. Of giving up. Brienne can't remember exactly how this stupid competition started, only that it was his idea (of course it was his idea) but here they are, the last remnants of a whole sliced pineapple between them, trying to figure out who can eat the most before succumbing to the dreaded pineapple mouth burn. 

Before this, she'd never really noticed the sting brought by eating too much pineapple—he'd brought that up watching her cut the fruit she'd insisted on buying at the farmer's market today because they couldn't just eat out of take out boxes all the time. But now, seated at the breakfast bar in his spacious kitchen, the unrelenting smolder in her mouth is all Brienne can think about. Well, almost all. She forces the lumps down her flaming throat, smiling, both triumphant and smug, inching the plate back toward Jaime.

"Bravo!" He claps for her. "At this rate, we're going to need to cut the second pineapple!"

"I don't think you can handle the rest of this pineapple," she says, arching an eyebrow at him. It's half challenge, but she really does doubt it. Or at least she hopes he can't because her own mouth isn't going to cooperate much longer and for whatever stupid reason, she really needs to win this.

He refuses to break eye contact, as he slurps up another slice, looking even more delicious than the pineapple had. It's sinful. No one should look like that while they eat, but Jaime does. He chews, slow and deliberate, and she wonders for a moment if he's doing it on purpose, to mess with her, or if he's just burning as badly as she is and trying to force his mouth to move.

Pain—worse than pineapple burn pain—certainly isn't new to either of them. Hell, their entire three year friendship began on a team building camping trip, where they had more in common than anyone else. And the only thing they had in common was neither of them had wanted to be there. So of course she took the first opportunity to break away from the group, venturing out alone. Perhaps that hadn't been such a great idea because she wound up ambushed by—of all things—a godsdamned bear.

Brienne shudders at that, almost appreciating the prickers in her tongue because if Jaime hadn't also wandered off, close enough to hear her scream, she wouldn't be here to feel them. And he would still have his right hand. Together, they had managed to fight the animal off long enough to scale a tree, but not before it took a souvenir. Plagued by guilt, she'd visited him every day in the hospital, one of only a few because as it turned out, not many people liked him. Not many liked her either, and by the time he was released, they each had a new best friend. Better than a hand, he likes to joke now.

That's the problem though. It's not that she doesn't love having him as a friend, it's just...it's not enough. He's like the pineapple. Before that, she never thought about him, but now that he's wormed his way in, he's taken over every thought. Sometimes, when she squints, she gets the sense that maybe he wants more too. It's there, in the way he seems to look a little too long or says confusing things. But then those moments break and she remembers he's her best friend. Just her best friend.

His fingers snap in front of her face, shaking her from her intrusive thoughts. "Planet Pineapple to Brienne. Are you there, cadet?" 

"Sorry," she mumbles, a furious blush crawling across her chest at having zoned out like that.

He stares at her in that curious, unreadable way, before shaking it away with a smirk. "You know," he drawls mischievously, “I could have spat that out and you'd have never been aware!"

"Did you?"

"Of course not!" He clasps his hand over his heart, looking wounded. "Does my lady think me entirely without honor?"

"I would never, good ser," she mocks back. 

Things have been tense between them ever since she'd broken the news that she was offered a promotion that came with a transfer north, to the Winterfell branch. A promotion she'd accepted. Too quickly, he'd agreed that she should do whatever was best for her and her career, and that had stung worst of all. Brienne had genuinely believed he'd have at least tried to talk her into staying, even if it was only for the sake of their friendship. Since then he has simply refused to acknowledge it at all. It sucks not being able to talk to the person she talks to about everything. 

She's not sure when—or even how—the pineapple got into her mouth, but it's burning her worse than ever. It's the most absurd moment, but a bubble of laughter swells in her chest, and she realizes she's grateful. Damn him and his stupid ideas, but they needed this bit of levity, this break in the choking fog between them. She doesn't even mind the burning on her tongue. It's certainly better than whatever is going on in her heart.

He's the reason she's taking the transfer. The promotion is nice, sure, but she's happy here, happy with what she does. The distance though...she needs that distance. From him. She has friends up North too, and while those friends aren't Jaime, they're also... not Jaime. That's a good thing. Not being together every day. Not seeing his face. It's crushing, but so is what they're doing now, only what they're doing now is hopeless. At least escaping gives her a chance. Maybe, after enough time, she'll get over him. Maybe she'll meet someone nice and sensible and who will eventually like her back.

She almost chokes, the pineapple wedging up against the other lump in her throat, but eventually, they both make it down.

"Your turn!" She smiles, too big, as she forces all those thoughts of transfers and what's best for her and unrequited love from her mind. 

He grimaces at the pineapple, but picks a piece up anyway, tilting his head in a combination I'm-going-to and I-really-don't-think-I can. Brienne fixates on a drop of juice that dribbles down his chin as he chews once. Twice. His eyes are watering. Is he...? Jaime gags and the pineapple falls to the counter with an undignified plop. "Nope," he sputters, wiping his tongue with a paper towel before using it to pick up the mushy fruit. "Nope, not even happening."

Half disgusted by the display, Brienne chokes on her laughter. "Does..." she manages, but just barely, taking a moment to start again. "I suppose this means I win!"

"Not so fast!" Jaime mock glares at her. "We are currently tied! You need to eat at least one more piece before you can claim victory over me. Anything less is cheating!"

"Do I really have to?"

"Yes. Yes, you really have to." He is insistent. "I know how you like your rules!"

"Fine, fine," she says, in spite of her poor, abused taste buds. "Still gonna win though," she mutters around her final slice of pineapple. 

She's mid chew when it happens. Jaime--her very best friend Jaime--leans in, cupping one cheek with his good hand and kissing her on the other. It's out of nowhere and shocking and nothing like this has ever happened! Her mouth drops open.

Before she can protest, hells, before she even realizes what's happening, he reaches over and plucks the half-chewed wad out of her mouth.

What?

"What?" Baffled. Brienne is utterly, entirely baffled. "Did you? What? What?" The tingling in her mouth is spreading across her face and she can't even process what he just did, much less find words to start to address it. "Did you take food...from my mouth?"

Jaime doesn't speak, just nods with the most supremely arrogant smirk.

"But... you can't. Jaime! You don't... Seven hells! That was in my mouth!"

"I couldn't let you win!" He's still gloating and she's about to yell at him that he cheated and that just means she wins by default, even if she hadn't already won anyway, but suddenly he's all serious and staring at her with that look that makes her shiver. The one that makes her think...

"And," he turns, face to face with her, "I can't let you leave either. At least not unless you take me with you."

He leans in and she swallows hard, struggling against her still-fiery throat. Heat prickles across her neck, then down her arms, into her stomach, completely, shockingly, unrelated to the pineapple. She wants to ask him what he means, if this is a stunt or a joke, but his eyes are so sincere as his mouth lands on hers and all thoughts fall away, leaving only the burn. This time when he kisses her, it's for real. 

Pineapple just might be her new favorite food.


End file.
